Nice work. That facade of farmhouse brings back many memories of visiting there as a young’un.

Summer sausage, rhubarb crisp, exploring the barn and all the old machinery, Sears catalogs from the 1920’s, reading “Papillion” on the porch, designing my own Maginot Line defensive forts at the tiny kitchen table, sneaking peeks at his Playboy collection (hidden from view — likely at my mother’s explicit request — but not enough to evade Teenage Boy Radar), and marveling at the collected collectibles of several generations stashed in every conceivable nook and cranny. Oh, yeah, and nooks and crannies! The house had thousands of them.

I’m sure (Great-)Uncle George was just as flummoxed by my odd behaviors as I was of his, but I still think of him fondly every once in a while.

I love it that you have so many memories of this place. Me too. I’ve always wanted to have that house (wouldn’t take too many million dollars to fix it up!) – and I really like the grove next to it.
And if you flummoxed Uncle George, he wasn’t alone. You have a gift.